


The Time That Is Given To Us

by Trololololoz (SillyWriterKidz)



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Child Death, Gay, Graphic Description, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multiple Murders, Murder, Slow Burn, Tags will update as needed, Temporary Character Death, Tumblr Prompt, Violence, each chapter will ahve it's own tags, i lvoe steve i say as i brutally murder him, steve dies a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyWriterKidz/pseuds/Trololololoz
Summary: Wake up. Avoid Mom. Go to school. Annoy Lake. Shove Pepperjack in a locker.Pretend it doesn’t hurt.Go home Eat. Sleep. RepeatThis has been Steve Palchuk’s routine for god knows how long. It’s what he’s always done and what he thought he’d always do. Until one day…Go Home. Die before making it home. Wake up screaming.Now Steve has to repeat the same day over and over while trying to avoid his killer. Along the way he learns more about the world he tried so hard to ignore. He sees Lake making dinner for a parent who’s never home. He sees Pepperjack talking to himself because no one wants to talk to the kid who’s usually stuck in a locker. He sees Domzalski caring for an eldery guardian, Nunez trying to raise her brother, Scott worrying for her father, and so many more. With this new knowledge Steve tries to better himself and actually befriend the people he’s pushed away but he still has to worry about being killed every day. Can he handle making friendships that ultimately disappear the next morning or will he finally triumph and see tomorrow?





	1. STAB ME ONCE or The One Where Steve is Stabbed

**Author's Note:**

> "Send me a fake fic title and i’ll write the summary of it" AKA The fic i won't write but apparently I did so whoops! 
> 
> HERE IT IS  
> another Jeves fic

Wake up.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_Pretend it doesn’t hurt._ ~~

  


Go home.

 

Eat.

 

Sleep.

  


 

**Repeat.**

  
  


 

Wake up.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_He wants friends._ ~~

  


Go home.

 

Eat.

 

Sleep.

  


 

**Repeat.**

 

 

 

Wake up.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_They’re all stupid anyway_ ~~

  


Go home.

 

Eat.

 

Sleep.

  


 

**Repeat.**

  
  


 

Wake up.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_He hates himself_ ~~

  


Go home.

 

Eat.

 

Sleep.

  


 

**Repeat.**

  
  


 

Wake up.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_Would anyone miss him?_ ~~

  


Go home-

  


 

**Don’t make it home.**

 

Steve Palchuk was taking his Vespa home when he heard a strange sound off the side of the road. He knew better than to pull over so he kept going only get a hard object thrown at the side of his head. The force causing him to jerk and speed right into the curb, causing his body to be flung over the edge and into the harsh concrete. It was late, the practice was long and because he had gotten into another fight he had to clean up, and he was pretty much the only out this late at night. Arcadia was a safe town mostly ever since his father had skipped town (not without leaving Steve some all to permanent reminders) so Coach hadn’t batted an eye at leaving Steve alone. Murders and crime were practically unheard of in the small town so Steve was thrown for a loop at the rock being thrown but that could also be the concussion.

 

Then again, Steve was pretty well-feared/hated at school so maybe he should’ve expected this. No, no one was brave enough to do this. Well, throwing a rock at his head wasn’t brave and actually kinda cowardly. Steve growled as he stood up, he was definitely going to break whoever did this. That was until he saw the knife.

 

Oh _Shit._

 

Steve tried to get up to run but the second he stood up he felt his mind go blank and he stumbled. Shit, he’s got to get away- run- fUCK HE WAS GONNA DIE. He had to get away but then he felt a sharp stabbing pain and oh shit he just got stabbed.

 

HE GOT STABBED.

 

Steve managed to get up and try to run, adrenaline a wonderful motivator just like dying. He put a hand over his shoulder only for it to come back bright red. Yup, that’s blood. Oh fuck, he can’t die he had so much to live for. He was going to become a sports star! He was going to ask out that blonde in biology! He was…

 

What was he going to do?

 

Another swipe that Steve just narrowly missed made him realize that having an existential in the middle of his murder was probably the worst time. Gotta go fast, gotta blast, GOTTA GO OH SHIT THIS DUDE IS FAST.

 

Fuck, stabbed again.

 

Oh, Steve was getting light headed. How much blood was he losing? How much blood was in him anyway? Maybe he should start paying attention in Health class if he lived long enough to see tomorrow.

 

Fuck things were starting to get hard to see.

 

Steve collapsed on the sidewalk outside a building he knew had people in it. He should scream for them to come out to help him. Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Surely, someone had to be looking out their window to see him being attacked. Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Please. PLEASE.  


“PLEASE HE-” A hand covered his mouth and stifled his plea.

 

He felt something go into his side for the third time. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt IT HURT. Make it stop please it hurts. His side was becoming warm but his body was growing cold. It hurt so much but it didn’t and he didn’t know if that was worse. He didn’t want to die. Who did?

 

Please don’t let him die.

 

Someone.

 

Anyone.

 

Please.

 

He’ll be better. He won’t annoy Lake. He won’t shove Eli into a locker. He promises.

 

The knife dug in deeper. The killer twisting it to make sure Steve felt the pain and god, did he feel it. It hurts. He can’t breathe. Mom? Where’s his mom? She may not care for him much but he did tell her he’d be home in a little bit. Was she worried? Did she care? She was his mother she had to care. He wanted his mom, he felt tears in his eyes. Was this his life flashing before his eyes because he could see his mom singing him lullabies and patching him up and making him breakfast and- and- and. He wanted his mom. She comforted him even if he didn’t deserve it but would she now? Did she care?

 

No, probably not.

 

How pathetic was that? To realize that there was no one worried. No one probably cared. Steve was going to die unloved. Just like how he was born. The killer released him and he fell to his knees. No strength to hold himself up anymore. No will. Nothing.

 

With a final gasp, he shut his eyes with a throbbing side.

 

**Die before making it home.**

  
  
  


Wake up.

 

Brown eyes widened. He was alive. It was just some awful nightmare because he was awake in his room, in his bed, in his house. He was safe, no one was out to kill him, he was alive. Just for good measure, Steve ran to his bathroom to check his side.

 

No scars.

 

Nothing.

 

It was just an awful dream. Steve was going to go to school like normal.

 

Just an awful dream. Pfft- and to think he was going to be nice to people. Fuck that.

  


Avoid Mom.

 

Go to school.

 

Annoy Lake.

 

Shove Pepperjack in a locker.

  


~~_Pretend it doesn’t hurt._ ~~

  


 

G  ~~**o**~~     _h_ **O**   m    ~~3~~.

  
  
  
  
  


**Die before making it home.**

  
  
  


~~**Wake up screaming.** ~~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**R E P E A T**

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Gay Crisis? Just in time for MURDER!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN FUCKERS HERE HAVE A MURDERED STEVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:   
> -Implied child predator  
> -blood  
> -choking on blood  
> -suffocation  
> -strangulation  
> -swearing

The dream shook Steve but Steve wasn’t going to admit that at all. He was going to go through his day just like he always does. 

 

Well… Except for the fight. Sure, it was just a bad dream but he didn’t  _ have  _ to get into a fight today. No need to stay late after practice, someone else could clean up and travel the roads late tonight. Someone else could get a rock to the head and stabbed to death. Someone else could feel the terror of dying slowly with no one in the world to care for them at all. Okay, that sounded kinda shitty and Steve Palchuk was not shitty. He was a great dude who maintained the social order of Arcadia Oaks High with no reward in return. Sure, he gave the odd black eye and shoved Pepperjack into a locker almost like clockwork but he was a good guy.

  
  


A good guy who’s about to miss his daily ‘Mess with Lake’ bit. With newfound confidence, Steve strolled right over to where Lake and his annoying friend Domzalski were chatting. He felt as if things were a little off before checking his watch only to see that he was several minutes late. He was usually done tormenting the two boys by now so they must’ve thought they had a free day. Jokes on them though, Steve never gave anyone a free day. Just before announcing his presence he decided to overhear the two’s conversation. 

 

“So, the new horror movie,” Toby gave Jim some finger guns, “Thinking of taking Darci to it? You wanna join?”

 

“And be a third wheel,” Jim chuckled and closed his locker, “No thanks, you go have fun.”

 

“It could be a double date if you’d just get over yourself and ask someone else,” Toby dramatically fell against the lockers. 

 

Steve wasn’t expecting that. Last he heard, Lake had a huge boner for the Nunez chick. Since when did that change?

 

Now curious, Steve hid behind the corner only to try and listen in more on the conversation. 

 

Jim rolled his eyes, “Seriously, Tobes? Not cool.”

 

“Then ask Claire! C’mon she’d love to go with you,” Toby pleaded, “I can’t go without my main man!”

 

“We’re friends Toby,” Jim adjusted the strap to his bag, “That’s all. We talked about it and figured out we’re both better off friends.”

 

“Then at least tell me who the mystery person is,” Toby changed the subject, knowing the Claire thing was a bit of a sore spot (and feeling bad for bringing it up), “I know Jim Lake Jr is not one to go without crushing on someone for too long.”

 

“No,” Jim shook his head and the two started to walk off with Steve still stalking them. Why did this seem oddly familiar? 

 

“Is it Mary?”

 

“No.”

 

“Marcus?”

 

“He’s aro/ace, Toby.”

 

“Eli? Shannon?”

 

“Do I look like an alien to you?”

 

“Fair. Kevin?”

 

“He’s with Jamie…?”

  
  


Toby threw his hands up in a huff, “Gah! Who, Jim, WHO?”

 

“No one Tobes, you don’t even really know if I even have a crush on anyone,” Jim looked down at his friend only to spot Steve from the corner of his eye, “Steve?”

 

**BRRRRINNNGG!**

 

The bell rang and everyone raced to their classes. Well, not really raced, more like casually walking hoping to get there just in time to not get a tardy but not spend any extra minutes in class. With the distraction, Steve ran off to his class and collapsed into his chair. If only he hadn’t been late he wouldn’t have overheard the conversation between Domzalski and Lake. Why did he even care? He didn’t, he didn’t care that Jim was apparently okay with dating guys along with girls. No, he didn’t care at all. 

 

Practice let out early today. Steve left with the rest of the crew since he hadn’t gotten into a fight and didn’t have to stay back. It was kinda lame since his dream had made it seem like the fight was epic. Steve was going to go home, go to bed, and wake up tomorrow ready to punch the poor kid right in the face. All he had to do was go home. There was no lack of people on the road, a strong contrast to the nighttime loneliness his dream had given him. Nope, it was sunny, packed, and Steve was happily riding the streets to get home. 

 

Only to find it empty. Of course. 

Mom was probably out with her new boyfriend or something. What number was this one again? 7? 10? 100? Steve stopped caring after the second one. No point in caring when they only left within a few weeks. He really liked the second one from what he could remember. The dude was super chill and really liked to hang out with him. The man was super affectionate too, always hugging Steve when he was a kid and just showering him in the affection his real dad never gave him. Mom was always jealous that her boyfriend paid more attention to him than her. It felt like she didn’t care about Steve’s happiness and she just proved it when she broke up with the man and got a restraining order just like she had with dad.

 

Steve shook his head, no need to think about the past. He went into the kitchen to make something for dinner since his mom was probably not coming home tonight. 

 

He should’ve turned when he heard the creak. The house was old, he was practically born in it, so he had gotten used to creaks and groans. Not this time, he should’ve known better. 

 

He felt something go around his throat and tighten. His hands instantly went to the rope and tried to pull it away but to no avail. His assailant was dressed just like in his dream down to the food stains on the dark green hoodie. He couldn’t see the person’s eyes though, for some reason they were shrouded in shadow no matter the angle. The rope tightened even more and Steve felt it bite into his neck. A harsh gasp escaped his lips in a desperate attempt to get some air back into his lungs. 

 

Air. He needed air. 

 

His lungs were burning. It felt like they were going to explode at the lack of air. His chest was moving as if he was breathing but no air was coming in or out. Gross, ugly, gasps escaped Steve’s lips in another desperate attempt for oxygen but every gasp led to the rope being pulled tighter. By this time he was sure to have some sort of rope burn at how the rope dug into his skin. It hurt. He was starting to see black spots and his head was getting light headed. 

 

Is this how he dies? Stabbing was better by far. He hated this, it was slow and agonizing. His body couldn’t even function enough to send him chemicals to block out the pain. 

 

Then the rope loosened and he drew in a deep, lifesaving, gulp of air. The person had let go and Steve wasn’t stupid enough to just stay there. He ran. 

 

He fucking ran to his room because he had a lock and a knife. Steve almost made it in too but then he felt the same rope on his neck. It dug into his skin even more so than before and Steve felt what seemed to be something sharp on it. Not only was he losing oxygen but the rope was literally cutting into his throat, causing him to choke on his own blood. Every gasp made bright red blood spill out of his mouth. He tried to scream. He tried to call out for help. 

 

It hurt. It hurt. He wants mom. He wants out of this nightmare. 

 

He saw the black spots again. His fingers numb from trying to pull off the rope but he could feel how wet they felt. His body twitched and kicked in some hopeful attempt at getting away from the murderer. Every last nerve in his body was fighting for Steve to stay alive but the rope just cut deeper and deeper into his throat. Every attempt at breath just sounded like a wet choking sound. Blood was spilled from his lips and his neck as his head grew lighter the more his chest burned. 

 

With one last dying gasp, Steve let go of his final breath.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

**GAAASSP.**

 

Steve sat straight up in his bed, panting, and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His lungs were  _ aching  _ for air even though he knew he was just sleeping so he shouldn’t feel so breathless.  His hands found themselves around his neck as if to see if any markings remained. He pulled them away and found clean hands, free of blood and free of a rope that _ burned.  _ His body could remember his dying breath and how he died in absolute terror. IT was just a dream thankfully. 

  
  


It was just a dream. 

 

**Just an awful dream.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA  
> ha  
> HAHA  
> H A


	3. The one where Steve Gets a Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve dies twice but now he noticed things. He's an idiot but apparently not in the supernatural
> 
> Happy Thanskgiving Have steve getting SHOT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS  
> -very VERy lightly implied child abuse  
> -gun  
> -talk about wounds  
> -ghost pain  
> -low self esteem

Two nights in a row he had a dream where he died. Two nights he died in horrible ways, alone, and scared. Steve didn’t want to think about it but when he brushed his teeth he thought he saw the person behind him again. He almost screamed but managed to swallow it down enough to turn around and see nothing there. Paranoia, he was just paranoid. No one was there, he was just fucked up from his dreams. It didn’t matter that he could still feel the rope tightening and cutting into his throat. It didn’t matter that his shoulder still ached as if it had just been stabbed like it had been really stabbed. It felt as if he could reach back and still feel the raised jagged skin and could move to feel the gaping hole where the knife went in. 

 

Nonsense. It was just a dream.

 

Just a dumb, stupid, dre-

 

“Steve,” An older female voice called out, “Are you still home?” 

 

Shit. Normally he was gone by now. He never stuck around to be here when his mom woke up or meet her new boyfriend. Fuck, fuck he always left an hour early than he needed too just to avoid her. It didn’t matter that he would get to school at 6:30 and the gates would still be locked. He couldn’t get out now, not without her knowing he was here because she would hear the Vepsa turn on. 

 

A gentle knock on the door, “Steve? Are you still there?”

 

~~_ He wanted his mom, he felt tears in his eyes. _ ~~

 

The memory of the first nightmare hit him and he remembered how much he wanted her comfort. Now, she was here, just outside the door. He could open the door and hug her and feel safe again like he did when he was a little boy. That’s all it would take, just a few steps and a turn of the knob and he would feel safe but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to take those steps, to turn the knob, to open that door. 

 

An annoyed sigh, “Fine, whatever. I’ll be out late tonight.”

 

_ ‘Aren’t you always,’  _ crossed his mind along with,  _ ‘Please stay home.’  _

 

He held his breath until the door closed. Then he fell to his knees and broke down in his bathroom. Two hours later he felt stable enough to get up and go to class. He made it in time to shove Pepperjack into a locker and went to torment Lake and Domzalski. The little nerd, Pepperjack, was concerned because he barely even tried to shove him. A light push and the kid just stumbled back before Steve moved on. 

  
  


“So, the new horror movie,” Toby gave Jim some finger guns, “Thinking of taking Darci to it? You wanna join?”

Wait.  
  
  
  
“And be a third wheel,” Jim chuckled and closed his locker, “No thanks, you go have fun.”  
  
  
“It could be a double date if you’d just get over yourself and ask someone else,” Toby dramatically fell against the lockers.

 

He’s heard this conversation before. This is the same one they had yesterday. 

  
  


Jim rolled his eyes, “Seriously, Tobes? Not cool.”

 

“Then ask Claire! C’mon she’d love to go with you,” Toby pleaded, “I can’t go withou-”

 

“Hey what do you think happened to Steve,” Jim asked out of the blue.

 

Toby was taken aback, Steve was too, “Wh- what do you mean? He’s skipped obviously.”

 

“No,” Jim shook his head, “He takes his sports seriously, he wouldn’t be skipping cause then he would miss practice.”

 

Toby raised a brow but stayed silent while Jim continued, “I don’t know I just feel like something is wrong. He’s never this late to torment us plus I heard he was in third period.” 

 

“So he missed first and second big whoop,” Toby shrugged, “The dude could roll over and die for all I care, he’s a dick.”

 

“Toby,” Jim hissed, “Don't’ say that out loud! He could be on his way here and we don’t need a repeat of last year.”

 

Steve remembered what they were talking about.

 

“Yeah,” Toby rolled his eyes, “I get suspended and he gets a slap on the wrist.”

 

He had gotten into a fight with Domzalski. Steve didn’t know it was Jim’s birthday even though they’ve been classmates since kindergarten. He had missed most of school from 5 years old up until seventh grade for personal reasons. By the time he got back most of the kids had forgotten who he was, hell, even he had forgotten who he had been. Steve’s mom fought tooth and nail for Steve to be in the same age group as his peers even though he had tested poorly. Somehow he managed to keep a very low C average but only just barely. Of course, he was upset and by the time they all got to high school he was livid. So he took it out on any and everyone. One unlucky time was Domzalski. He pushed him during biology and caused a spill that resulted in an evacuation. The teacher only saw Domzalski spill it so only he got in trouble. The redhead tried to report Steve and it pissed him off so he...well he fought the kid. He couldn’t really say ‘fought’ though, the kid could barely hold his own. He got suspended and a black eye and Steve just got in trouble for starting a fight again. 

 

Oh...He kinda felt bad about that. 

 

Maybe he does d-

 

  1. No, he is NOT going to think about his dreams or how he’s hearing the same conversation. He’s just going to go through school and go to practice and then go home… Just like he had done in his dreams...All alone. 



 

It bothered him enough that during practice he asked, “Hey, does...does anyone want to come over to my house?” 

 

They’re his team. He’s never hurt them or even ever thought about hurting them. Unlike everyone else, they never felt his wrath or anything like it so they have no reason to say no. Steve thinks he’s pretty nice during practice, maybe a bit of a drill sergeant at times but if someone was actually tired he makes them sit out. He thought he was good enough that at least one person in his nine-person tea would say yes. Maybe even Seamus or Logan, who are always bullying kids with him, would come over or at least ride home with him. 

 

The looks of fear, disgust, and plain confusion spoke mountains about what his team actually thought of him. Steve tried not to let his face fall too much. Tried to just shake off the hurt and shrug, act nonchalant about it. Several opened their mouths to speak, even Marcus who he had worked with on sports for four years, voiced his excuse to not come over. Steve knew Marcus wasn’t busy today. He knew the date and he knew that Marcus would be busy tomorrow because it’s his birthday tomorrow. 

 

Without another word, Steve shrugged and walked away from the confused team members. 

 

He got home in record time. The person was already there but he didn’t care. 

 

“Just get it over with.”

 

Somehow they knew he wasn’t up for suffering today because they pulled out a gun and-

 

**BAM!**

 

Steve woke up again. Another awful dream.

 

Until he looked at his phone and saw the date. He never thought to pay attention to the date before but then he focused on yesterday and. 

 

It’s the same day. 

 

No, no. This was just a dream.

 

Right?   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bangbang motherfuckers


	4. The one were Steve finally loses it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, now Steve KNOWS it's a repeat but he has to die for it to repeat  
> and Dying in horrible ways doesn't really do well on an already broken psyche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS  
> -bludgeoning  
> -bleach  
> -restraints  
> \- vague implication of suicidal attempts  
> -Steve being a dumbass  
> -panic attack (or anxiety)  
> -vomit  
> -vblood

The day repeated. Steve didn’t want to be sure about t but it did and he’s only slightly freaking out. Only slightly. Not a lot. Nope. 

 

Okay, he’s freaking out a lot. 

 

The conversation between Lake and Domzalski, that had changed, right? So maybe Steve’s phone was just broken or something. Then again, he hadn’t missed the first two periods the time before but he had that day (event?). Lake seemed concerned about him which was weird because he’s been awful to him for forever.    
  


Steve thought about the looks his own team gave to him. He had been with them since freshmen year and even  _ they _ didn’t want to be near him. Was he that awful? 

 

He thought about Domzalski who he got suspended for something he did. 

 

Steve thought about Pepperjack who he always stole money from to the point the kid just transferred money over in hopes of not getting hurt. It never worked, Steve still shoved him in a locker and left him to rot. 

 

Lake. He always torments Lake but not like the others. Sure, he calls out for Lake’s attention more than anyone else and if he sees Lake around he has to get his attention but- Wait. That sounds really gay. HA. He’s not.

 

Today is a really REALLY weird fucking day. 

 

Wait. Every time he died he woke up… Does that mean to reset the day he has to die? Does he have to die by the weirdo or? If he doesn’t die does the day reset?

 

Is he the main protagonist to this b rated horror movie plot? Yes.

 

“Steve,” A knock at the door, “Are you still hom-”

 

Before she could finish, Steve opened the door and looked at his mother who still had her hand up to continue knocking. She blinked several times as if she couldn’t believe her son was real and standing in front of her without trying to run away five seconds after making eye contact. 

 

Steve realized he hasn’t said anything, “I- uh I’m home.”

 

She nodded slowly, “Yes...You are.”

 

WOW, this was awkward, “So...did you -uh- did you need...something?”

 

Another blink while her hand slowly pointed to the general direction of the garage, “I- your Vespa was still- you hadn’t left?”

 

Okay, he needed an excuse. What sounded cliche and totally believable for teens his age? Why did he sound like he was an alien trying to fit in on Earth without raising suspicion? That’s another b-rated movie plot. 

 

“I slept in,” The most cliche of excuses, “Yup, stayed up all night doing-”

 

Doing  _ what?  _ He can’t say ‘oh you know, getting killed and being stuck in a time loop’ like he won’t get shipped off. 

 

“-doing boy things,” Steve nodded like he was totally not lying, “sports, girls, definitely not dudes because I’m not gay- not that there’s anything wrong with being gay- but you know I’m not and you know.”

 

No, she did not know. He didn’t either, what the FUCK was that?

 

“Okay,” She glanced away as if checking for an escape route, “Do we need to have a talk- because I am okay if you’re curious or anything like?”

 

“No! Nope,” Steve shook his head, “Nope! 100% straight dude right here yup. Watch all the vids straight guys watch about girl-”

 

“Are you watching porn,” His mother half shrieked.

 

WELP, “Hey! Look at the time I gotta go and,” Steve grabbed his bag, “Pretend this never happened!” 

 

The second Steve slammed the front door shut he released a deep breath and rested against it. It took him several seconds to realize three very distinct things. 

 

One, he was still in his pajamas (which were just his boxers today) in full view of the whole neighborhood.

 

Two, he literally just admitted to watching porn to his mother who was going to kill him.

 

Three, the guy that kills him was standing in front of him with a baseball bat.

 

Steve took in a long, deep, breath before standing up straight, “Thank god you’re here. Please hit me as hard as you can.”

 

The person didn’t even hesitate before bashing Steve’s head in with the baseball bat. Man, is it sad that Steve can count on his murderer more than his own dad? That has to be sad. That’s pitiful. 

 

Steve woke up with a pounding headache and a bit of dizziness. His mother was knocking on the door again but he was a little less nervous. The date on his phone was the same once again which cemented the theory that Steve was indeed repeating the day and it restarted when he got killed. Well, now he had to see if just avoiding death would let him see tomorrow and if so what if he got killed tomorrow? Would he just repeat that day until he survived to the next? 

 

“Fine, whatever,” he heard his mother huff and he tried to rush to the door only to black out a bit and fall to the floor in a heap. She must’ve still been close to his door because his mom opened the door and raced over to his side. Steve tried to stand up but had to lean on his mom for support. This was going better than the last two times so there’s that. 

 

“Sweetie,” He hasn’t heard that in a long time, “Why don’t you lay down? I’ll call the school and you can just take today off.”

 

Steve tried to respond but it came out slurred slightly and his head was only hurting worse. Soon, he found himself back in the warmth of his bed and his eyes closed before he could even think about. His mom said something about going to get some medicine but his head was pounding too much for him to really focus. Seconds later he was out like a light with his mother coming in to put the medicine on his bedside and go call the school. Only stepping out to get some groceries, Steve’s mother was unaware of the intruder in the house. 

 

Steve stirred a little while later with his headache majorly subsided enough for his vision to focus on something. Someone was standing in his room and it wasn’t his mother. Brown eyes following down the person’s arm and he saw the big gallon of Bleach from their kitchen. No, no he’s seen what that can do to people in the movies. There’s a reason it says ‘DO NOT DRINK’ on it and it’s considered a powerful cleaning agent that serial killers use it. 

 

He tried to move but found his arms restrained. The person came closer and pursed Steve’s lips, forcing them open. 

 

Then they started to pour the bleach in. It was regular Bleach so a little bit wouldn’t kill Steve  (not that he had researched it in his years at the hospital as a kid when he was sad and alone)   but this person wouldn’t let that stop them. Steve could feel it  _ burning  _ as the chemical ran down his throat. His stomach convulsed with stomach acid to try and counteract the action, to keep him alive. Still, the person just kept forcing more and more of the brand new bottle down his throat. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so godamn much as it started to eat away at the tissue in his stomach. 

 

It felt like his insides were coming undone. He wanted to throw up but that would just force more acid into his already dissolving insides. That didn’t stop his stomach from making him gag and forcing up the acid up there anyway. The person was forcing Steve to lay flat on his back. That meant that if he threw up it would have nowhere to go but back into his throat. If the Bleach didn’t kill Steve then he would choke on his own blood and vomit. He could feel his throat clenching and vaguely he felt the rope tighten as it had several deaths ago. It hurt it hurt and he tried to get out of the restraints but the knots were tied tight. Tears ran down his face and a thought of his mother ran through his head. 

 

Was she in the house? Did she know? Is she okay? 

 

Was she the person?

 

Blood was starting to come out of his mouth. He could taste the strong metallic taste overcome the stinging acidic feel of the bleach. The taste was awful and he hated it and wanted it out but the person forced him still and just kept pouring more and more in. There was too much liquid in his throat that wasn’t being cleared up. HIs lungs heaved to suck in air while his stomach pushed to keep everything out. His heart was beating a mile a minute trying to keep him alive but with no oxygen, his blood would just rot inside of him. More tears rolled down as the burning just grew worse and worse and it hurt. Garbled sounds flew out of his mouth with the attempt to both plead and clear out his airways but with one ounce lost another pint of Bleach was poured in. 

 

His lungs were  _ aching  _ for air now. His head was getting light and he started to lose focus on the world around him. Steve needed to stay awake. To know who this person was or to save his mother but it was so hard. He was trying so hard to scream, to cry out for his mother or anything, but without any new oxygen to fuel his body, Steve’s brain went into overdrive and then.

 

Everything went black

 

Steve woke up heaving for air and to his mother pounding on the door. She had just opened it to see her son rush into the bathroom and dry heave into the toilet sobbing. 

 

She rushed over to comfort him, “Oh sweetie, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you have a bad dream?”

 

Steve’s sobs turned hysterical and she would swear they started to sound like laughter as Steve fell to the floor of his bathroom. 

 

“Just a bad dream,” He whispered in between his fits, “just a bad, awful, dream.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't fucking write i hate myself

**Author's Note:**

> haha hope y'all enjoyed  
> more to come!


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